Chapter 3 #2
He needed to de-escalate the situation as soon as possible.
"Hey, guys," he said, walking up behind the guards, who spun on their heels and blinded him. "Hey, it's just me, Nash, the driver."
They lowered their beams.
"What do you want?" Frank asked.
"I noticed your flashlights. Wanted to see what was going on." He waved to Lena. "Oh, hello," he said, keeping his tone as casual as possible. He turned back to the guards. "So, what's up?"
Frank's lips pressed into a thin line, obviously irked at Nash's interruption.
Manny, on the other hand, was excited to share. "We caught her snooping around here," he said proudly, like he captured a bank robber.
"I was just . . ." Lena said. "Just . . ." She lifted Nutmeg's dog leash. "We were out for a walk."
Nutmeg's tail pinwheeled. Even in the dim light, Nutmeg looked utterly delighted that everyone ran over to visit him. Because, of course, that's why they were all standing around in the near-darkness.
"I was just curious," Lena continued. "I was looking around. I wasn't trying to—"
"She was peeking in the windows of the pool house." Frank growled the words at Nash. Then he snapped his head to Lena. "Why were you looking in the windows?"
"I . . .I wasn't . . ."
The fear on Lena's face twisted his stomach. Lena Ashworth might have come after her cousin with good intentions, but if Frank and Manny could rattle her, she was way out of her league.
"Hey, guys," Nash said. "You heard her. She just wanted to look around. It's an impressive estate. You get it?"
Lena nodded. "Yeah, I was just . . . I was just exploring. I didn't mean to bother anybody."
Frank purposely shone the flashlight straight into her face. "You don't need to be looking in windows. What's your name?"
"Gentlemen," Nash interrupted out of fear Lena would forget to use her fake last name.
Nutmeg pounced around everyone's feet, clearly confused why no one was playing with him. Read the room, pooch.
"Let's be polite to the lady," Nash said. "This is Miss Erickson. Victoria Van Horn hired Miss Erickson. She's here to take care of Miss Van Horn's dog while she's away. I'm sure Miss Van Horn will be glad to know you're so concerned about Miss Erickson's safety."
Both guards stiffened. Nash wasn't sure which Van Horn signed their checks, but he was sure Victoria's name carried some weight.
Manny nodded slowly. "Yes, well, we don't want you stumbling around in the dark off the pathways. Stay on the pathways after dark."
Lena bobbed her head. "Oh, yes, I will."
Frank lowered his flashlight to Lena's feet. "And introduce yourself quicker. We didn't know who you were."
"Oh, my apologies," she said. "My mistake."
She did a good job groveling. Not that she had done anything wrong, but she was smart to sense apologizing was the quickest way out of the conversation. She successfully appeased Frank and Manny, and they scuttled off to their post at the security shack near the front gate.
Nash crouched beside Nutmeg and rubbed his head.
Which the dog took as his cue to throw himself on the ground and roll over on his back—his expectation unmistakable.
"You want a belly rub, huh? Okay, boy." Nash rubbed his belly, pretending to be overly interested in the dog until the overzealous guards were out of earshot.
He looked at Lena. “Hello again. You okay?"
"Oh, yeah. Um. Thanks for that. Talking them down, I mean. I really wasn't trying to—"
He held up a hand, keeping the other busy massaging Nutmeg. "Don't explain right now." He inclined his head toward his garage apartment. "Mind if we talk a minute? In my apartment?"
Her eyes widened. She took a step back. "Um, no. I should take Nutmeg back. It's getting—"
He hung his head. That was stupid. You sounded like a creep. He raised his head and looked at Lena again, this time with both hands raised. Much to Nutmeg's disapproval.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to sound inappropriate." He stood and leveled his gaze at her. "But we do need to talk. I know you're Lena Ashworth, not Erickson." He let that swing in the tropical breeze for a moment.
Lena stood speechless. Her fear was palpable.
He needed to explain. But he didn't want to do it out here in the open.
Manny and Frank might return, wondering why they were still hanging around.
"I'm not going to reveal that to the Van Horns.
And I'm not going to hurt you. But we need to talk, just not out here.
Please come up to my apartment. I'll leave the door open if it makes you feel better. "
"Why can't we talk in the main house?"
Logical question. But she might not like the answer. "Because I have my own security in place for the garage apartment, not Emil's security. The apartment is safer."
She took another step backward.
This isn't going well. He shoved a hand through his hair and realized even Nutmeg wasn't as enthused with his presence anymore. "Listen, I know you're probably looking for your cousin, Cassidy, right?"
"How . . . how do you . . . do you know where she is?"
The emotion lacing her words pricked something near his heart.
"Not yet. But—" He glanced toward the guard shack.
"This really is a conversation we need to have inside.
Frank and Manny will come back. When they do, I'll try to convince them I'm out here flirting with you.
But if you keep backing up, I'm not going to be able to sell that. "
Her mouth opened, then closed without a word. He watched her consider the situation. Finally, she held up a finger. "If I come up to your apartment, the door stays open. Yes?"
"Yes, ma'am. You have my word. Look, I know we just met today, but I promise I'm trying to help you."
Her silent nod signaled his first small victory. She tugged on the leash, gently prompting Nutmeg, who looked deliriously happy to be moving again.
Their short walk through the salty evening breeze carried no less tension than their poolside conversation.
He needed to play this carefully. She'd agreed to talk in private, but just barely.
He feared that if she didn't like what he said, she might bolt.
But she needed to hear him out. Because her life was in danger.